Viral
by PissyNovelist
Summary: *REWRITE* Hell is overflowing. Satan is sending his dead to us. Why? Because you perform magic underage, you kill for power, you have Mud Blood and Pure Blood relations. But now we know. When there is no more room in hell, the dead will walk the Earth.
1. Chapter 1

**Long time, no see, Harry Potter fanfiction people!**

 **Alright, so in 2011 I wrote Viral. It was one of the most fun I had writing a story. I had so many nice messages and reviews, helping me write each chapter! I'm so thankful for all the kind words, as I was still a very young writer and unsure of what I wanted to do.**

 **Since posting the last chapter of the original work, I haven't even looked at it. I practically forgot it was there! But, after an overdue Harry Potter marathon, I thought about Viral and knew I wanted to do a re-write.**

 **I wrote Viral as a very young writer. It was far from perfect, and after having read it back to myself earlier, I couldn't stop cringing. I was far from skilled, and even now, I have room to grow. But as an older, more experienced writer, I wanted to re-write Viral.**

 **I hope readers who read the old version of Viral read this version and see the growth in my story telling abilities and I hope readers who never heard of Viral before now enjoy what I have to offer! After this is up and posted, I will be deleting the old story, never to be seen again!**

 **Sorry for the long preamble, but now I offer you a new and improved story! Thank you.**

Hermione Granger sat in the Gryffindor alone, nose deep in the first fiction book she had been able to enjoy in ages. The only other noise accompanying her was the slight crackles from the fireplace. She took a moment to look up from her book, eyes falling on the blazing fire. She sighed, content; nothing was more relaxing than reading by the light of a warm fire. Hermione looked back down at the page, eyes seamlessly falling to where they once were.

She only had a minute of solace before all of her dearest friends bumbled through the door, laughing with their arms full of sweets.

"Kicked out of the town?" Hermione smiled, giving her friends a quizzical look.

"We're not quite that bad." Harry said, tossing a bag of crisps to her.

"Go on a shopping spree, did we?"

"We did!" Ron nodded an exaggerated nod, tapping at Hermione's legs as a sign to sit up. She did, crossing her legs and propping herself up against the arm of the couch.

"You should've came," Ginny tossed in, sitting on a plush pillow on the floor while Harry followed suit ", the streets were lined with magical displays! So many talented witches and wizards showing off for the young kids! It was amazing."

"Ah yes, the magical buskers. I'm sure it was plenty of fun, but my book made for good company." Hermione smiled once more, placing her bookmark into the crease and setting it aside. She knew she wouldn't be able to get much more reading done now.

Hermione listened as all of her dearest friends went on about the displays of magic they saw, until something caught her eye. She took a quick glance out the window to see the sun was still up but the magical performers kept putting on various shows until late at night.

"Hey, I thought you guys said you would be out for the entire show. They must still be performing, when the sun goes down is when they do the lights in the sky." Hermione offered, slightly confused. All of her friends, especially Ginny, would have loved to see the legendary light show.

"They ended it early this year. Couldn't figure out a reason why, though. The street was so crowded, I could barely hear over myself." Ron shrugged, bringing a hand up to groom through his hair. As he did, the sleeve of her home-knit sweater fell, exposing his pale flesh. Upon it lay three scratch marks; none were deep and surely they wouldn't scar. However, that didn't stop Hermione from grabbing her friends arm and inspecting it closer to the fire's light.

"What happened here? Did Crookshanks nab you?"

"What? No! It's a funny story, really. We were walking through the crowd and this sickly man was kind of bumbling through everyone." Ron started.

"I put a bet on too many butterbeers!" Ginny chimed in with a laugh, quickly going back to sharing some flavoured beans with Harry.

"So, we're watching this guy stumble about. Just as we were about to move past him, the guy feel into me and scratched my arm up. We helped him up and he stumbled on past us like nothing happened. Didn't even say thank you, but like Ginny said, he was probably three sheets to the wind." Ron shrugged once more, clearly indifferent to the event.

"Well…keep an eye on it. When little scratches like that get infected, they can be dangerous. Especially if someone else's… _dirty_ nails scratched you." Hermione made a face, but let it go.

As before, they kept on chit chatting about this and that. Hermione found another content moment, here with all her friends. It had been so long since they were able to act their age, with rumours of a great wizarding war on the horizon. She looked at the faces of her happy friends and wondered if this is what ordinary felt like. Strip them of their magic, and their just four teenagers _being_ teenagers. Resting her chin on her fist, Hermione grinned.

This was ordinary.

Just as Hermione had finished her bag of crisps, she reached for another, figuring she'd spoil herself. But before her hand could touch the muggle made foil package, they heard the sound of the door swinging open. Hermione furrowed her brow. She had never thought the door could move faster than at a snail's pace.

Before they could even say another word, Professor McGonagall fast walked into the commons. Her entire body, as it often did, read as calm and collected. But no one could miss the glimmer in her eyes, hinting to something being off.

"Where are the rest of the Gryffindor's?" She asked, urgently, but with no waiver in her voice.

"I haven't seen anyone all night. They're probably scattered about the castle." Hermione offered.

"Some of them are probably still in town." Harry chimed in, standing to look at their dear professor.

"No matter. The four of you must come with me at once. No lollygagging. Let's go." Before any of the students could protest, the professor had already turned. The sounds of her swishing robes were enough to get everyone moving, following behind in a large group.

"What do you think is going on?" Ginny whispered to Hermione, gripping tightly on to her arm as to not fall behind.

"I'm not certain… but we've faced Dementors and constant threats from Voldemort. What could possibly be happening that we can't fix?" Hermione said. She shook of Ginny's tight grip, instead throwing it over the younger girl's shoulder. Ginny was shaking.

As they worked their way through the halls, the noise of harsh breathing and footsteps bouncing off the walls, they kept tight together. With every turn down a new hall, all four students saw Professor McGonagall grip the handle of her wand; her knuckles, already pale, seemed to turn even whiter with each grip.

"Stop." The professor whispered, holding her hand up for silence. All the kids followed her order and waited. A moment of pure silence passed and Hermione was starting to get confused.

"Professor, what are you -" what she had heard stopped Hermione's words in their tracks.

A groan. Not loud, nor quite. It seemed to bank off the stone walls, leaving the group unable to pinpoint the exact location. The golden trio, plus a lovely little lady, all exchanged looks of concern and confusion.

Another groan emerged, but it's location was more clear. It came from the end of the long hallway. The candles lighting the far hall always casted odd shadows, but something about how the dark and light danced upon the walls in odd, shambling shapes left them all with an uneasy feeling.

"Come, there is no time to waste." Professor McGonagall ushered them all down a deviated hallway and down multiple sets of stairs before coming to the main lower floor hall. In the other arched doorway stood Professor Snape and his ragtag band of misfit students. Beside him stood Draco, confused and obviously angry about it and Luna Lovegood who, from far away, looked as dazed as always.

When they walked towards each other, it became very clear that Luna was not dazed as always. Splatters of blood covered her, nearly head to toe. Her white shirt, blue tie, and porcelain skin each wore splatters and flecks of _something_.

Hermione was the first to walk forward, placing her hands gently on Luna's shoulder. Hermione snapped her fingers in front of Luna's face, but she just kept looking at her. With one more snap, Hermione realized she wasn't looking at her… Luna was looking through her.

"What is going on?" Hermione was the first to ask Professor Snape, a little outraged and exasperated. She looked up at the man, but he avoided her gaze, looking to McGonagall.

"My quarters will be the safest."

"No, they won't. My office is further of a walk, but the height will give us an advantage."

"Seeing as I just came from the halls of your office, I _ensure_ you my office is much safer."

Hermione watched the conversation go down, as the rest of the gang had surrounded Luna to make sure she was okay. At the mention of her office not being a viable option, McGonagall's face seemed to fall. Whatever was happening… the situation was grim.

"Okay, your office it is." There wasn't time for any more talk. Both professors motioned the teens to start moving, all of them following behind Professor Snape to his coveted office. In the midst of the craziness, Hermione thought it was strange she had never been in his office before. She'd been in the basement with a three-headed dog, a huge chess room, every forbidden portion of the school, and a list of other crazy place Harry seemed to lead her. But not once had she ever set foot in the mysterious office of their own potion master.

As they made their way down to the Slytherin halls, a stench of pennies and gasoline wafted about. It was enough to make Ginny gag, causing her to nearly double over onto the stone floor.

"I know this is the dungeons, but… it's _never_ smelt like this." Ron huffed through the sleeve of his sweater, trying to keep his sister on the move.

"They must be collecting down here." McGonagall spoke in a hushed voice to her colleague, who simply nodded in response.

Finally, the stone turntable to Snape's office was in sight. The group all walked a little faster, clearly the professors didn't want to attract too much attention. As Snape was saying his incantation, a familiar loud groan came from the end of the hall. They all looked back, seeing an unfamiliar student bumbling near the main arch.

"Who's that?" Harry looked to McGonagall for answers, but she was checked out. Her entire being was focused on the figure at the end of the hall. Hermione looked as well.

Whoever it was, they looked confused. They were walking with a slow shuffle, head hanging down to their chest. Hermione could see how their fingers seemed to twitch uncontrollably. Definitely not the behaviour of a normal, healthy person.

"Seriously, what's happening?" Harry spoke, his voice louder than before, to gain the attention of one of the professors. Unfortunately, that was all they needed.

The dumbstruck figure had heard Harry's voice. The unidentifiable person stopped all shuffling and looked down the hall. McGonagall took very slow steps forward, placing herself in front of the children, her wand in hand.

"Magic doesn't work." Luna piped up, finally. All Luna's fellow students looked at her with a shocked expression.

"Magic always works." Ginny whispered.

"They don't care." Luna whispered once more.

Before anyone could ask for clarification, a wild shriek came from the being at the end of the hall. Hermione watched this… _thing_ try to run, but it couldn't quite get the footing. It was more of a medium speed shamble. Hermione wanted to keep watching as the thing stumbled over itself, picking itself off the stone in order to get to them.

"Do they need help?" Hermione asked, her tone hushed.

"Far from it, Miss Granger." She heard Snape say, before he grabbed the back of her shirt and dragged her into his office. He had enough time to shut the door and put a sealing charm on the stones before him.

But it wasn't long before the thing at the other end of the hall was at their end of the hall. The group relished in silence for twenty seconds before the banging and shrieking began on the other side of the door.

"I think we'd all appreciate some answers now, Professors." Harry looked up at his teachers. Like a true Gryffindor, he kept his fear hidden for the sake of his friends.

"I'm afraid I don't know how to say this…" McGonagall sighed, looking at the door with a disenchanted look.

"Take a seat. I don't need anyone fainting and breaking their skulls on my floor." Snape droned, taking his rightful spot at his office chair. They all claimed their own spot in his office, many of which residing on the black, leather loveseats he kept in case there was along grading night.

"It started four days ago," Snape began, riffling through stacks of unorganized papers to find the notice he had received from the Ministry of Magic ", the staff made no mention of it, as the Ministry had told us it was in control. Unfortunately, what was _in_ control is now _out_ of control.

"Out of control? What could possibly be out of control?" Draco finally piped up, putting on an annoyed face to mask his anxiety.

"A virus." McGonagall, as always, used a soft voice.

"This virus isn't like a head cold or a flu, I assume." Harry stated. He tightened his arm around Ginny.

"Obviously," Snape sneered ", this virus doesn't work on the living. It works on the deceased. The virus is… reanimating the dead. But they're not coming back as the conscious, sentient person they were before they died."

"Necromancy?" Hermione asked, unsure what the whole fuss was about. Necromancy scares were, more or less, a common enough occurrence. There was even a book in the library focused on how to fix those mistakes.

"No, if it were simple necromancy, we wouldn't be here. It's something completely unheard of in the wizarding world. But you, as a muggle born, are likely the most knowledgeable on the subject." McGonagall offered to the girl.

Suddenly, everyone's eyes fell to Hermione and she felt self-conscious.

"What subject?" Hermione was officially tired of the only adults in the room beating around the bush. She stood, arms crossed over her chest, and face in a sneer only Snape could compete with.

"Miss Granger, the muggle term used to describe what's happening outside is zombies." Snape tried to remain official, but the muggle word left a bad taste in his mouth. It seemed so juvenile and childish; that somehow one muggle word could sum up what was happening.

Draco, Ron, and Ginny were at a loss for the word. They had never gone out of their way to see muggle media. Harry thought he understood, but living in a home with an abusive family didn't leave much time for him to watch horror movies or read comic books. Luna understood as well, but she couldn't seem to make herself speak.

But Hermione knew well enough what that word meant. It was enough to make her puke into the trash bin just beside the loveseat.


	2. Chapter 2

"Well that sounds ridiculous. Zombies? I've never even heard of those things." Draco scoffed, confusion behind his hard exterior.

"Well," Hermione started ", the term has roots in muggle mythology. The concept of zombies was discovered by muggles and made into fictional entertainment. There are plenty of movies and books dedicated to the subject. Lots of muggles love this type of media."

"Yeah, but what are they, 'Mione?" Ron asked.

"They are a, supposedly, fictional monster. Depending on the lore of the movie or book, they can be different. Some can sprint really fast, some are really smart, and some are portrayed as slow and shambling. No matter the type, all zombies have one thing on their minds; the desire to eat human flesh." Hermione felt her stomach churn at the mere words.

"Human flesh? That's how muggles enjoy spending their time? That's just sick." Draco spat, but was ignored by the rest of the group.

"Why do they eat people?" Ginny asked, mortified.

"No one is certain. Up until now, I never thought zombies were a possibility. They've always been fictional, actors wearing makeup. There's no information or science on zombies." Hermione shrugged, unsure of where to go from there.

"The only widespread knowledge shared by all zombie based muggle-media is that, in order to slay them, you must remove the head or cause damage to the brain." Professor Snape contributed.

"It might not as hard as it sounds, either. We saw that guy at the end of the hallway. They're pretty slow." Hermione offered up, hoping to bring some confidence to the group. Everyone just shrugged and nodded, clearly at a collective loss.

"So, how do we handle this?" Harry asked, looking to Ron and Hermione specifically.

"I think we should wait. The ministry will be informed of what's happened here any moment now. Staying put is our best chance at staying safe." McGonagall said.

"I don't know about that, Professor…" Hermione said with a sigh.

"How are you so sure?" Professor Snape asked, not out of spite or malice. He would never admit it, but in between her incessant finger-wiggling when she knew the answer and know-it-all spiels, Hermione Granger was the brightest witch of her age. If anyone had a prayer to stand alongside him in a battle of mythical beings, it was her.

"The longer we wait, the bigger the hoard can become. We surely can't be the only ones left alive in this castle. If those people, or even ourselves get caught by one of them, we're just adding to the amount of zombies in the castle. We should stay for a while, to rest and build a game plan. But that plan needs to end with us leaving this castle and going somewhere safe within the next twelve hours." Hermione reamed off what she figured was the best course of action.

"I'm on board with that." Harry agreed.

"Me too." Ron smiled up at the young witch.

A round of quite yes' and noises of agreement came from everyone except Malfoy, who continued to pout about the situation.

"They got him right in front of me. They could've grabbed me, but they grabbed him." Luna whispered, making herself smaller in the corner she chose to sit in. She pulled her tiny knees to her chest, folding herself over just to feel safe.

Professor McGonagall stood at the nearly inaudible noises coming from Luna, walking over and resting against the arm of the couch. Despite her old bones telling her no, she bent over and placed a hand upon Luna's hand. Luna, finally having the footing under her feet, gripped her hand back.

"Tell us what happened, dear. We want to help you work through it." The professor used her most calming, gentle voice.

"Neville, they grabbed Neville. We were just standing outside the Ravenclaw dorms when a mass of screaming people started to run by. Once we realized exactly what was happening, we started to run too. We were trying to make it to the commons so we could find Harry, Ron, and Hermione. But when we turned the hall, one of those things was waiting. It stumbled onto Neville by chance and started… feasting." Luna felt bile rising in the back of her throat, but she was determined to tell the story.

"Luna?" McGonagall bent forward with caution.

"At the time, I didn't know what it was. But as soon as Neville was tackled, I saw an opportunity. I grabbed the candlestick off the table and hit the thing in the back of the head. The thing stayed down, but it was already too late for Neville. I tried to fix him… but that's when Snape found me. I knew trying to save him was a lost cause," Luna sighed ", I can still hear the sounds of that thing. It was so depraved, it was so hungry. Like it was blinded by hunger." She picked at the bloodstains on her clothing, not wanting to look at anyone.

Snape pursed his lips. He too has lost a loved one in a tragic event. His heart, what was left, ached for the girl.

"Go behind the bookshelves and change out of that stained shirt and tie. It's a small step, but it'll help… feeling clean." Hermione stood, removing her sweater to reveal a plain tee-shirt, and gave it to Luna. The chilled air of the dungeon quarters was suddenly apparent, but Hermione knew she would eventually be fine.

"Bottom line, we need to get out of Hogwarts. Let's sit and devise a realistic, tactical plan and then figure out where we're headed. Somewhere far away from here." Hermione spoke once more, looking around the room for objectors. Everyone nodded in agreement, except Draco, who simply rolled his eyes. For now, Hermione had to take at as a sign of cooperation.

Everyone needed to be on board in order for everyone to survive.


	3. Chapter 3

**Long time, no see.**

 **Don't know if I mentioned this, but this is sort of an au where the wizarding war didn't happen when it did during the book/movie timeline. Hermione is indeed 18 as I never cleared that up, but it'll be addressed in the story because that weird underage shit aint my jam.**

The group decided it would be best to get a few hours of rest, just to reset their brains before devising and executing an escape plan. Hermione, however, found no rest. While the gentle breathing of her fellow mates seemed to bounce off the walls, she couldn't get her eyelids to shut.

She kept her back turned to everyone, eyes fixated on a crack in the wall. Hermione estimated its length, how deep it could possibly go, and the possible causes of the crack. She just kept racking her brain for questions she could keep herself occupied with.

The slight sound of a quill scratching on paper made her head turn just a tad towards the noise. She figured it must be Snape, working on a skeleton of a plan. She curled herself up tighter, the small blanket off the back of the loveseat Harry and Ginny had taken up in not offering much padding from the chilled stone floor.

Hermione held her breath as she heard, who she assumed to be Snape, stand. The footsteps grew closer to her ears and before she could react, his cloak was draped over her shivering body. The motion was quick, Snape retreating back to his seat as fast as silent steps could take him.

She finally let out her breath, wondering what had compelled such a retreated man to perform an act of kindness. Hermione thought back to the incident with Lupin; how Snape had shielded her and her friends from possible danger with his entire body, his freezing hand falling tight upon her own.

There was one thing Hermione was _now_ sure of; inside of Professor Severus Snape laid a sweet, yet dormant, man.

At this point, she knew sleep was avoiding her like the plague. She pretended to wake, giving a dramatic stretch. It didn't draw the older man's attention, even as she stood, wrapping the cloak around her shoulders. As Hermione walked closer, the black fabric dragged upon the ground like the train of a wedding dress.

"Thank you." She whispered, holding out a fistful of cloak to imply what she was referring to; only his dark eyes moved to her, the candle light dancing within his dark orbs. She saw him quirk the corner of his lips and raise an eyebrow in response. Clearly, it was his way of saying you're welcome.

"I'm glad you're awake. Other than Minerva, I believe you'll be the only other person in our group able to devise a reasonable plan." His tone was deep, sure not to rouse the others from their limited chance at sleep.

"Harry and Ron come up with good plans," Hermione sat at the chair across from his desk ", I just fine tune."

"You're selling yourself _short_ , Miss Granger."

 _That_ comment surprised her. But she was quick to discount it. The worst case scenario… the end of the world, it always seemed to bring out the weirdest in people. It brought out the unexpected and he didn't necessarily mean that. Hermione gave a gentle smile in response, looking to her sneaker-clad feet.

"There's no way to apparate, which takes out all of the safest ways out."

"And by now, the hallways around the headmaster's office will be clogged up with those wretched things. We couldn't disarm the charm." Snape said, crossing out a few lines he had jotted down upon the parchment.

"We have a fireplace with no floo powder." Hermione took a longing look at the fireplace, ablaze with a warming, homey fire. Snape sighed heavily, unable to _believe_ he never bothered to grab another pot of the damned stuff.

"Our only way is to go through the halls. Hogwarts is ancient… there must be hidden passageways _and_ a way to find them." Hermione tapped at her chin, looking to Snape, who was clearly thinking about her idea.

"Not easy enough to find… sending a scout to look for close and usable passageways is a risk I'm unable to take." Snape said and Hermione agreed. Despite the circumstances, he _was_ a teacher, and putting children into the direct line of danger goes against all his instincts.

"I could go." Hermione said.

"No," his answer was quick and firm ", you're far too _valuable_ to put at risk."

Silence fell between them as they both brainstormed the best possible way to approach the situation at hand. Every idea either one of them thought respectively was never solid enough to share with one another.

"Last summer, I spent a month at home. There's this new muggle television show about zombies," Hermione started, her voice slow, as she knew her idea was good ", and not just in the show… but _lots_ of other zombie muggle media, uses one method to navigate through the hoards."

Snape set his quill down and looked to her, interest written all over his face.

"The trick is to get one of the zombies and then cover yourself in their entrails," Hermione raised a hand as Snape was about to protest ", and I _know_ it's disgusting. But if we mask our alive scent with dead scent… it could work. Again, I could volunteer to try it first."

Before either of them could say anything more, a pathetic excuse for a coughing fit broke out behind them. Snape stood and Hermione turned in her seat to see Ron, shivering like there's no tomorrow, coughing into his pale hand.

Hermione's mind quickly fell to the scratches and the story of the bumbling man in the crowd. She felt her chest tighten and hands fold themselves into stern fists. She couldn't keep it a secret… that's how people got killed in all the horror movies.

Snape had seen her knuckles go white and her neck muscles contract.

"Miss Granger, is there something you'd like to tell me about your… _friend_?" He asked, jaw tight.

"He had… _scratches_ on his arm when he came back from the town. Something about a… _stumbling_ man with a… _vacant_ stare." Her voice was a whisper and she could barely get two words out before her tongue seemed to forget how to work.

The older man took in a sharp breath; the already nervous Minerva waking from her slumber upon one of the many comfy chairs.

"What? Did they try to get in?" She whispered at the pair.

Hermione simply pointed to Ron; his pale face more pale than it has ever been before, a sheen layer of sweat upon his skin. Hermione stood and walked closer, holding a small candle to his face to find drops of blood pooling at the corners of his mouth.

Her worst fears had been actualized; one of her friends was going to die in front of her. She had always thought this day would come, with the threat of a wizarding war looming above their heads. But as their final year had come, she was able to let that fear go. Within a second, that feeling had crawled back up inside of her and burrowed itself into her soul.

She fast-walked away, setting the candle back upon Snape's desk, and then buried her face deep within her professor's cloak. Hermione took in a deep breath, the faint smell of potions and strong smell of manly musk reminding her of a more simple time; potions class in fifth year, when Professor Snape would lean over her cauldron to check her work. Everything before now seemed so simple… she had taken it all for granted.

The plugged her ears as the two professors talked about how to handle the situation, not wanting to look back until they were ready to do their deed so she could say goodbye. Hermione shut her eyes tight, doing her best to remember all the jokes Ron ever made, all the gifts he had bought her, and all the little moments in between that had made their friendship so quintessential. Ron and Harry had made her time at Hogwarts more than just studying; they had _included_ her, taking her on adventures.

One third of the Golden Trio was going to disappear and she wasn't ready for all of this.

And Hermione _wanted_ to cry. But the tears wouldn't come forward.

She just kept plugging her ears, waiting until she could kiss his clammy forehead and tell him goodbye.

The first sound to pierce her makeshift earplugs was a wet, gurgling screech. The second was the scream of her good friend, Luna Lovegood.


End file.
